Water

For the last few weeks there have been problems with the the water supply to the house on the other side of the compound where I am living. Water comes in from the city supply and is stored in an underground tank from where it is pumped up to a large tank on the top of the house. As water is used the pump automatically kicks in and refills the tank and once it is full again the pump shuts down. A couple of weeks ago we noticed that the pump was running and running and not shutting off but there was no water in the house. The tank was definitely filling but within a few hours it would be empty again.

Albert, our aircraft engineer, spent a large part of one weekend trying to sort out the problem but we were baffled as to where the water was going. We called in Silas, the plumber who had been involved in building the house a couple of years ago, and he identified a faulty valve that was allowing the water to drain down the pipe and back to the city supply. To replace this valve, that was buried half a meter underground, meant digging a big hole but we were pleased he had found the problem.

All was well for about 10 days (if you don't count the two other leaks that suddenly appeared and required sections of pipe to be replaced) and then this week there was no water in the house again. So Silas returned and, along with up to 3 other workmen, he has spent nearly 3 days investigating the problem - checking the pump, digging more holes, using hoses to re-route the water - and he has now concluded that there is another faulty valve and that there may also be leaking pipes underground. He is coming back today to replace the valve and if that doesn't fix the problem he will need to dig more holes to replace the faulty pipes.

As with plumbers all over the world there has been a lot of standing over holes in the ground, scratching of heads and pontificating as to what the problem could be but as I was talking to them yesterday the incongruity of the situation struck me. Each morning as I leave for the office I see the ladies from the neighbouring houses, like women all over Africa, with large buckets on their heads, on their way back from collecting water. I wondered whether Silas or any of his workmen have running water in their homes and how strange it must be to be working to fix something that you may never experience but somehow we (as ex-pats) feel we cannot live without - running water every time we turn on the tap.